Save Me, Before it's Too Late
by Ghibly101
Summary: Max and Angel are now living in hell. Their mom died and they are now being abused by their father, Jeb. They move to a new town and meet "the flock", a group of friends who can be a little to inquisitive. Will the flock be able to save Max, or will they be too late? No wings. Yes, this is an overused plot line but I don't care. At all. Really.
1. Prologue

** Does it look like Maximum Ride belongs to me? That's what I thought.**

**Another overused plotline but I don't care. My next story is actually going to be one I that already wrote parts of down, but I need to copy them to the computer, and it will actually be somewhat original! Anyway, here goes nothing.**

Prologue

_Max_

It all started when Angel was born. My mother, Valencia Martinez, died in childbirth. I was eight at the time. The name she had pre-picked suited the dainty little girl, who had amazing golden hair and beautiful big, blue eyes. I loved my adorable little sister, and she loved me back. My father, Jeb, on the other hand, was too heartbroken to really notice her existence. He started drinking and doing drugs. We were ignored and half-starved most of the time, but we got by. Nothing got too much worse until I accidentally mouthed off to him. I still remember the first time he beat me, my mumbling about him not really being a father to us in response to something he said, his fist connecting with my face, him kicking me in the stomach repeatedly, screaming curses, then leaving me there, moaning in pain. At first, it was only when provoked, but barely at that. Then it was in response to my saying nearly anything besides yes, of course, and I'm sorry, or even touching him. After that it was just every day, whenever if he wasn't passed out drunk. My dad somehow managed to maintain his position as top dog in the police unit (I figured he has multiple threats placed on someone doing all the work for him) and I learned it meant him being saved from the law. About five months after it started, one of my friends saw the bruises and found out. My "dad" was furious. No less than a week later both the kid's parents disappeared and he got moved to a foster home on the other side of the country. I always knew it was Jeb, though, he killed them. Needless to say, that never happened again.

Now, it's nearly six years later, and almost nothing has changed. I'm fourteen, Angel's six, and my dad's a drunken asshole who beats his kids every day. We're just one happy family, aren't we.


	2. Chapter 1

**Does it look like Maximum Ride belongs to me? That's what I thought.**

**My updates will be pretty sporadic, but roughly bi-daily. Just saying.**

Chapter One

_Max_

_ Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_ I groaned and slammed my hand down on the stupid alarm clock. Stupid thing, I hated Groggily, I sat up and tugged myself out of bed, my body shrieking in protest. I shrugged off my pajamas and examined last night's injuries. Hmm, I got off easy, just a few bruises, a split lip and a couple cuts, no more than half an inch deep. This worried me. Usually when, for whatever reason, Jeb decides he didn't beat me enough, he goes for another round with Angel. Quickly, ignoring my body's shrieks of alarm, I step into my average outfit: loose black jeans, a loose black t-shirt, a loose black hoodie and knee high black converse, before rushing to Angel's room. I look in and tap her shoulder. She wakes up and rubs her eyes. She knows to stay quiet, as Jeb is even less merciful (who'd a' thought that was possible?) when hungover than drunk, and it's really hard to conceal still bleeding knife wounds… especially on the first day of school.

I help Angel into her outfit, a pale blue long-sleeved shirt and light grey sweatpants, checking for injuries as I go. There was nothing new besides a bruise on her cheek. Good. I brought her downstairs and made her two pieces of toast with butter, and have half of that. I make Jeb French toast and pour maple syrup on it. I leave it out for Jeb, but first, I stick my finger in the sticky stuff and hold it out to Angel. Her eyes widen as she licks it off. Once I got caught stealing maple syrup, I just wanted to know what it tasted like, and Jeb beat me half to death. I try to shelter Angel, try to take the hits meant for her. She hates that I do it, she knows Jeb's basic rule that if I step in, I get it three times worse, but knows she can't stop me. I start cleaning the lower level of our two-story home. Once it's as spotless as I can get it in the morning, I take Angel upstairs and carefully apply concealer to my wrist to my elbows, in case my sleeves slide up, then to my face, neck and chest. This stuff only seems to come off with these weird disinfectant wipes, so water and rain did nothing. We brushed our teeth, combed our hair and organized our school supplies. We live just under a mile from school so we walk to our only have. Jeb doesn't like it when we get friends, but has decided that we need them to fit in. He'll probably beat us for it later, though.

I lead Angel to our new school, our only haven from Jeb's madness. We were lucky enough to escape it this morning. Apparently, the high school, the middle school, and the elementary school were all on the same campus. I led her into the elementary school, where they showed her her teacher. I then walked over to my new school, the high school, and went in to the front office. I was already late, but I'd get off easy, I was new after all.

"Hi, I'm Maximum Ride, the new girl. I believe you have my schedule?" I asked.

"Right away, Miss Ride." The one in the grey said cheerfully. The one in pink just scowled. An unusual group of kids came in, "Aah, Nicholas. You were the one given the same schedule as Maxine, why don't you show her around." She was too perky… waaaay too perky.

The reason they were unusual was the sheer difference between them. There was a mocha-skinned African American girl who hasn't seemed to shut up, a blonde blue eyed boy who could have been Angel's brother, a pale strawberry blonde kid whose blue eyes were clouded, indicating that he was blind, and finally a Goth looking kid. He wore a black shirt, black jacket, black jeans and black combat boots. His hair was also black, and his olive tan face was free of piercings. I guessed he was emo, not Goth. He stepped forward.

"Come on." He said already walking out the door. I followed him to row of lockers on the third story of this gigantic school. He gave me a lock and I found my number 306. He then showed me to a classroom, "This," he said, "is first period History, with Mr. Smith." Wow, a full sentence. I get the feeling this is pretty rare. School drones on and I try not to notice the new girl stares. I had every class with Fang except gym and art.

The first half of the school day; the first half of my safe haven time disappeared before I knew it. At lunch, I went outside and climbed a tree, and ate lunch up there. The bark was painful against my many injuries, but I just wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now.

The rest of the school day came and passed and the next thing I knew, it was chorus. I knew if you're grades were high enough, chorus was optional, but if you were stupid or skipped, you were shoved in no matter what. I guessed that that was why Nicholas was there. He just didn't seem the musical type to me. The teacher, Mr. Something-or-other, saw me.

"Aah, here's our new student, Maxine." Why did everyone call me Maxine?

"It's just Max," I mutter.

"Okay, Max, why don't you sing something for us. You can sing alone or play an instrument. I remembered secretly teaching myself how to play the old guitar that I found in the attic, but Jeb beat me (surprise, surprise) and smashed the guitar when he found out. He gestured to an acoustic and an electric guitar, then to his piano. I picked up the acoustic, check the pitch and started singing Concrete Angel by Martina McBride. It was a favorite of mine, but I hated it also, because of its references to our situation, especially my darling Angel's.

**"Concrete Angel"**

She walks to school with the lunch she packed  
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back  
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday  
She hides the bruises with linen and lace

The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask  
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask  
Bearing the burden of a secret storm  
Sometimes she wishes she was never born

Through the wind and the rain  
She stands hard as a stone  
In a world that she can't rise above  
But her dreams give her wings  
And she flies to a place where she's loved  
Concrete angel

Somebody cries in the middle of the night  
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights  
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate  
When morning comes it'll be too late

Through the wind and the rain  
She stands hard as a stone  
In a world that she can't rise above  
But her dreams give her wings  
And she flies to a place where she's loved  
Concrete angel

A statue stands in a shaded place  
An angel girl with an upturned face  
A name is written on a polished rock  
A broken heart that the world forgot

Through the wind and the rain  
She stands hard as a stone  
In a world that she can't rise above  
But her dreams give her wings  
And she flies to a place where she's loved  
Concrete angel

As I finish, a tear streams down my face. It was a little embarrassing, but I couldn't help it. It was a little embarrassing, that is, until I turned back and almost everyone behind me was full out bawling. Woah.


	3. Chapter 2

**Does it look like Maximum Ride belongs to me? That's what I thought.**

**My updates will be pretty sporadic, but roughly bi-daily. Just saying.**

Chapter Two

_Max_

"Omigod! That was so saaaaad!" a random girl yelled.

"You're really good!" another bawling girl screamed.

"Awww… that's sooo sad!" someone I didn't identify screeched.

This sort of thing continued for about five minutes and it took another five for everyone to calm down. Only about a third of the class didn't cry or even sniffle, including Fang and one girl with red hair and revealing clothes who just stared in disgust. Ugh, I could already tell she was the main slutty popular girl in the school.

While everyone was gawking, she muttered something. I didn't quite catch it, but I think she said "Hey, people. She wasn't that good, y'know?" the people who heard glared and she had the nerve to look incredulous. "Okay, fine then. Everyone can moon over the new girl _who I am so much better than, _but I'm leaving." She said whining and stressing the "who I am so much better than" while everyone just stared. I didn't care one way or the other partly because a.) I just don't give a shit and b.) I was still too amazed by the ridiculous reception to "Concrete Angel". Who knew high-schoolers were _so_ ridiculously emotional.

Annoyed, I packed my stuff and left, noticing the teacher trying to get the girls' (who were already gossiping) attention attempting to say it was okay to go. There was half an hour until school was actually supposed to let out so I sat at a picnic table out by the elementary school and started my homework. Once I got home, there usually enough time for homework until I was halfway unconscious, and then, the last thing on my mind was homework. I wonder if Jeb expected me to keep my grades up. Probably not, but if I got an F it wouldn't be good. Interrupting my thoughts, Nicholas, I mean Fang, walked up to me.

"Hey," he said, softly. Ugh, what was with him? Couldn't he see that I was a loner? I decided to ignore him. "Hey, Maxine, Right?" he asked.

"What? And by the way, it's Max and my name isn't Maxine, anyway!" I snapped, sounding more than somewhat psychotic. Good, coming across as crazy is usually more than enough to get people to leave you alone. That was something I really wanted to be.

"Okay,_ Max,_" he corrected, "I was just wondering what you were doing here."

I sighed. He wasn't the leave-you-alone-alone-cuz-you're-crazy type after all, "I'm waiting for my little sister, and also really wouldn't mind _being left alone!_" I practically growled. He was annoying me (by existing) and also: he was kinda hot. I did not, _do not_, need that in my stupid, fucked up life. I really don't. _That doesn't mean I don't want it in my stupid, fucked up life, though._ Where the fuck did that come from?

He stared at me, slightly frustrated, as if he was attempting to see into my soul but failing, "Okay, Max, well, I guess you need some space but here's my number. Call me if you need anything." He said before walking away. _Translation: call me if you find me at least mildly attractive. _Boy/dating speak can be pretty confusing, but even I knew that one.

I noticed him watching me out of the corner of his eyes, thinking that I wouldn't. Because this particular male didn't get the "uninterested" vibe, I made a show of walking over to the trash can and throwing it out. I saw his head turn. I just smirked and continued my homework.

I finished my homework just as the school bell rang. Most of my teachers didn't give us homework because it was the first day of school and all that. I packed up my stuff and waited for Angel. I decided it was time for something special, "Hey, Ange, let's go get ice cream. I have some money for it."

My darling Angel stared at me wide-eyed, "_Money?_" she gasped, "_Ice cream?_" her blue eyes twinkled at the thought. I almost felt smug about the amazement she felt now because of me (kinda), but mostly all I felt was sadness at the fact that going out to get ice cream was such a ridiculous extravagance that she'd actually have a reason to feel so amazed.

"Yeah, I found ten dollars lying around here, so I thought maybe you and I could get some." I actually stole the ten dollars from Jeb's wallet (and had a few more where it came from) a couple of weeks ago. Between me and Angel, we've actually had maybe spent a hundred dollars each over our lives. Now, that may seem like a lot, but say the fifty dollars that were mine were spread out evenly over my 14 years and I would have spent a little over three and a half dollars a year. Combine that with the fact that Angel and I have had ice cream four, maybe five times each, with the last being around three years ago and this became a very special event for us.

I walked Angel over to Haagen-Dazs, which was conveniently close to the school. She stared at the tubs of delicious cold stuff, almost forgetting to order. She got a medium lemon sorbet with gummy bears and sour patch kids on top. I got chocolate chunk cookie dough, with M&M's, chocolate chips, and Reese's Pieces. Mmm… chocolate-y goodness. We eat the ice cream slowly, savoring every bite. I check my many-times-broken, stuck-six-hours-behind-but-I-automatically-translate-it-anyway, eight-year-old watch. 5:30. _Shit. _Jeb will be home soon, if he isn't already. I grab Angel's hand as she throws away her cup. We dash home, getting inside just as it starts to pour rain. Hoping beyond hope that Jeb wasn't there, I rushed off to go get the cleaning gear, and sent Angel up to do homework. She always worked upstairs, and in a different room each day, so Jeb couldn't camp out in a particular room waiting for her. Today, it was my room, which had a lockable closet, which she could hide in. I adjusted it with nothing but a screwdriver (Jeb's experiments of torture weapons, don't ask) so it locked and unlocked only from the inside without the key.

I desperately started scrubbing the floors in the upstairs hallway. If I could get this and Jeb's bedroom done, I probably could get away with this without any extra beatings, sadly, Jeb had other plans.

"Well, hello there Maxie, would you care to tell me why you are so late?" Jeb was standing right there, leaning on the wall. He attempted to sound English and polite, but with his slurring words, it just didn't work. I tapped three times on Angel's door, as I was close enough. It's our code for "hide, Jeb's in his 'beat my kids' mood", three raps on any surface. When I'm downstairs I stomp my foot or pound my hand on the floor, but Jeb is usually too drunk to think anything of it.

I sighed, "You told us to make friends. We tried, and they insisted we stay late and hang out." I muttered, saying the first excuse that came to my head. He stepped forward, but I knew better then to step back. When I did something wrong, he brought Angel into this, no matter where she was. He'd threaten to kill me, and she'd come. Our code is really, really weird: if I said "fine, do it," it means that that I wouldn't forgive her, ever, if she came out. I always said it, though. I managed to survive, no matter what. If I wasn't there, no one could take care of Angel, and she needs that. I could survive but drunken Jeb didn't really see the difference between beating his tough fourteen year old daughter, and his fragile, beautiful six year old, besides the fact he could use the latter as an excuse to take the former to the extreme.

I felt his empty beer bottle smash against my head, threatening me with the blackness. _No, if I pass out, he'll look for Angel. I can't let that happen. He'll threaten my life while I'm unconscious. There'll be no way to tell her no. _I forced myself to stand up, ignoring the glass shards and probable concussion. "You liar!" He yelled, his fist connecting with my face, knocking me backwards, and I step on a piece of glass. I refuse to cry out. It's been my subtle defiance for the past few years: if you can help it, stay silent. I gather myself up and prepare for the next blow. He hits me in the gut, bowling me over onto my back. I see the dreaded flash of silver. Not the knife already. Slowly, he draws it across my stomach. Agony and blood mix together, my head feels so weird, everything is changing, but staying the same. It just becomes literal. I'm still in a hellhole, stuck with a grinning demon currently hitting me with a golf club cussing at me. _At least Angel's safe… at least Angel's safe._

**It's a lot longer than I thought it would be, but I didn't find a good place to end it halfway through. What do you think? Reviews!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Does it look like Maximum Ride belongs to me? That's what I thought.**

**Hey guys. Thanks to everyone reading this, but next week I'm going to "camp" early Monday morning and coming home Friday afternoon as a sort of field trip. It's been happening for over twenty years, and it's become a tradition. To make it up to you I'll try to update multiple times before I leave, then daily for another two days when I get back. **

Chapter Three

_Max_

I woke up with a splitting headache. Angel was leaning over me worriedly, "Max! You're alright!" she whisper screamed. She knows not to raise the volume too loud or exactly what you think happens, happens. I rubbed my temples. Yep, definite concussion.

"Not so loud, Angel, please? My head hurts." I asked extremely quietly. Angel's big blue eyes widened.

"He didn't give you a conquer-shun, did he?" she whispered innocently.

I smiled slightly, "It's called a concussion, sweetie, and I think he did." Her eyes started getting teary, "Aww, no, no, no. don't cry, Ange. Don't cry. It's gonna be okay, someday, we'll both be fine and free of Jeb. That one day should come very soon, especially if I have anything to do with it. You got that, sweetheart?" I asked. I sometimes forgot that, no matter how tough she was, in the end she was a sentimental eight-year-old. I hugged her, trying not to wince as she came into contact with my battered skin. I felt her tears start to soak my shirt and sting my cuts.

"Ow!" I squeaked automatically. She stared at me, not daring to touch me, her eyes wide.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Do you need something?" she bombarded me with questions.

I ruffled her hair and immediately regretted it, but didn't let it on, "I'm fine, sweetie. Your tears just stung, that's all." I smiled weakly at her. I looked at the clock, "We have to get ready." I looked at the floor, then at my legs, then at Angel. I really didn't trust my legs right now, but I also really didn't want Angel to realize just how badly I was hurt. I sighed with no other option.

"Ange, can you… um… help me up?" I asked, almost nervously. She didn't hesitate to nod and rushed back to my side. She was trying to find a spot where my skin was alright, and failing. "Don't bother, sweetie. Just help me up, please." Nervously, she nodded again. I put my hand on her shoulder to keep me steady, and slowly put my feet on the ground and straightened my legs. "Thanks, Ange."

"You're welcome, Max." she attempted to smile. She brought me over to the bathroom while I lent heavily on her shoulders. She sat me on the edge of the bath as she started bandaging me before applying cover-up to both of us. I then, with Angel's help, exchanged my bloody clothes (yes, I was still wearing them, but changing was agony) for a fresh black hoodie and sweatpants. Jeans hurt too much against the scrapes. She then gave me Bambi eyes to let her put on my usual converse.

I led her down the stairs, and she helped me start breakfast. On days like this, where Jeb well and truly beat the crap out of me, Angel would insist on helping me do everything, if I even try to resist, she'll pull everything from guilt trips to crying, even though I suspect crying isn't truly on purpose, she's too sweet and innocent to fake cry. She practically forces a piece of bacon down my throat. Bacon is riskier because Jeb, though usually too drunk to notice if a piece is missing, occasionally does. He always wants eight pieces, and when he's sober enough, it's possible for him do figure out if any is missing. That's right: Jeb can do math. It surprised me too.

Even after breakfast, Angel scrubbed the floors because I couldn't even bend down. Instead I cleaned everything I could reach without bending over. Afterwards, I looked around. There was nothing left to do besides leave. Which meant walking to school. Crap. Crap, crap, crap-ity, crap, crap, crap. This truly sucked. If I drove anywhere in Jeb's car, I was digging my own grave. That was made very clear quite a while ago. The walk was half an hour when relatively uninjured, past the usual scrapes and bruises, this would probably take quite a bit longer, but because Angel insisted on helping (usually I got her to finish her homework or something while I cleaned) we had an hour.

I had avoided walking as much as I could, and Angel had helped me everywhere. Now I had to walk to school, and the moment we ran into anyone, I'd have to stop. I sighed, "C'mon, Ange. Let's go." I hid my pain as we headed out the door as best as I could, but Angel knew me too well. We walked side by side while I was trying to hide my limp and failing epically. Suddenly, Angel stopped dead.

"Give me your backpack." She commanded suddenly. It was so tempting; the straps grated over scratches and bruises on my shoulders, and even opened up some over the larger slashes on my back. I was in a stubborn mood today. Maybe it had to do with the headache from the blood loss. Whatever.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes! Goddamnit, Max! You are so infuriating! You already overprotect me! Just let me take the goddamn bag!" she screamed, "Om my god, I'm so sorry Max, I didn't mean it like that…" her eyes started to tear up.

"It's okay, sweetie. It's fine. I get it, you're worried about me. It's just that you're too young to have to deal with this. I would die if anything happened to you." I said, kneeling down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, ignoring my body's protests.

"Don't you see Max? I feel the same way. You do this so I don't get beaten. You don't run away because of me, you don't stand up for yourself because of me, for god's sake, you get worried about me if you're relatively unharmed!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face, "I'm so worried about you. Please, Max be more careful. Please, for me?" she sniffled, attempting to staunch the flow of tears with her sleeve.

I wiped her face gently with mine, "Shhh,

"Will you at least lean on me, at least until someone comes by. Please, just until you get better, or at least until tomorrow." I noticed she did that, saying "at least" a lot, when she got flustered and upset, usually when she was afraid.

"Okay, sweetie." I place my arm on her shoulder, careful not to put too much of my weight on her.

"Max, I can tell you're holding back. It won't hurt me, I promise." She stared at me with her tear streaked face.

"Okay, but if it starts to hurt promise you'll tell me?" I ask her solemnly. She nods and I relax into her. My limping increases due to the uneven spread of my weight, but the pain lessens. We continue on for a while like that, and I notice the blood from my back has started dripping down onto my pants. _At least they're black,_ I think, _so I guess it shouldn't matter._

I feel a little woozy. Huh, weird... I wonder what's going on. Oh yeah, I have a concussion, that's probably it. I keep walking. Soon, my head starts spinning and my vision brightens. I see little fireworks behind my eyelids and I start stumbling. The world starts changing colors and Angel looks distorted. I think she's screaming at me, but I can't tell over the buzzing in my ears. I feel my body hit the ground with a painful thump. The world continues spinning above me and I count at least six little blonde girls leaning over me before it all turns black.


	5. Chapter 4

**Does it look like Maximum Ride belongs to me? That's what I thought.**

**If you're getting this on Monday morning, or whenever you see this (before Friday), then yay, I'm sleep deprived for you and I have to go to camp and wake up at six. If you are getting this Friday or Saturday, much later than I should have updated, then I fell asleep. I'm really tired, but I feel kind of bad so I'll try. Sorry if this chapter is kind of shitty.**

**Now: If you get this before Sunday, you are lucky. The graduation party was fun, but the aftermath is as suckish as it gets. My head is pounding, and I feel like crap. My wrist hurts because I fell so I'm typing this one handed. So please, **_**please,**_** excuse any mistakes.**

_**Now:**_** my wrist is sprained. It fucking sucks. My left hand is useless and basically tangible pain. *sighs* one-handed typing sucks. You're lucky I'm bored.**

Chapter Four

_Max_

Jeb's voice echoed in my mind, the message lost, but the sender still clear. My head ached, my body burned and my life sucked. My ears were ringing but if I concentrated, I could make out what he was drunkenly saying.

"… so where the fuck are you Max? If you don't get down here now, I will kill the girlie! Ain't that right, _sweetie_?" crap! He had Angel!

"M-m-m-Max! Help me!" my baby screamed. No. This couldn't happen. I forced myself off my bed and onto my feet ignoring my body's screams of protest. _Stop screaming,_ I mentally berated my body, _I hear this way too much_. I stomped down the stairs, right leg dragging behind me for no reason I could remember.

"I'm slitting her little throat now! You better come stop me, _Maxie!_" Jeb yelled in his usual slur. No, no, NOOO! Angel can't die!

My mind raced a mile a minute but I moved so slowly. Goddamnit! Move, legs, move! I just made it into the kitchen when I saw Angel's sweet little face deformed and mutilated, and her throat slit wide open. NOOOO! Not Angel, not Angel, please, please!

"Oopsies, too late, are we?" Jeb grinned maniacally. He was going down. Right fucking now. I charged, ignoring everything except for the burning need for revenge. Justice for my darling little sister. The girl who cried for me when I tried to hide my pain from her. The sweet little thing that deserved a loving family where she got fed daily and her worst pain came from little booboos she got around the house. This was for her.

My hands closed around his neck, squeezing the breath out of his worthless body, "Die, bastard!"

He laughed. What the fuck? His smile was evil in every aspect of its existence, "Are you sure it isn't you who will die, _Sweetie_?" I followed his gaze to the knife protruding from my chest. No. No. No! This couldn't be happening. Why me? Why us? Poor Angel. My sweet, sweet sister was dead and gone. At least she's in a better place, now.

_And her dreams_

_Give her wings_

_And she flies to a place_

_Where she's loved,_

_Concrete Angel._

My darling concrete Angel…


	6. Chapter 5

**Does it look like Maximum Ride belongs to me? That's what I thought.**

**I'm considering putting this up for adoption. Tell me what you think in the reviews. I'm happy to continue, but I don't feel this is all that good. Maybe I'm just too hard on myself. But if you're reading this and like it please tell me. I'm also very sorry about my lack of updates, but given I'm (finally) out of school, they should speed up, if I continue this.**

**Oh, and by the way, in the reviews in this story, please comment whether you want me to start an idea which randomly came into my head or one I started writing a little over a year ago. Here are the summaries:**

**1, A normal, eight-year-old girl, with friends, family, and a good life in general, makes one mistake and is in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets captured by erasers. She gets brought to the school and meets the ten-year-old max. Then she gets wings. Of course, because that's what any kid does when they get to that age. A year later, she is still pretty sane, but very different. She is removed to a separate wing of the school and revealed to have a purpose. What will come next?**

**2, the apocalypse is over, most humans are dead, besides those running Itex and the school, and the flock and fang's gang have died along with most of the mutants from gen 77 and under. The various branches of the school and Itex have turned against each other, using mutants as soldiers, and almost the entire world is a war zone. My name is Leo, and this is my story.**

**Note: both will be pretty gory. I can't help it.**

Chapter 5

I jolted awake, sitting straight up then falling right back down, clutching my broken ribs. I sheen of sweat covered my body and I felt really woozy. Ahrgg, what happened? I looked around. Angel was sitting, staring at me. I groaned, "What happened exactly? I feel weird." I asked.

"MAAAXIIEEE! YOU'RE ALRIGHT!" she yelled, about to fling me into a hug, but remembered my injuries and thought better of it a second before her body would have collided with my own. She ended up just standing there awkwardly, chewing on her lip anxiously.

"I thought you were dead, Maxie." She whispered, tears brimming her eyes. Her blonde hair hung limply from malnutrition and her skin was an awful pasty white, but her blue eyes were as bright of a sky blue as they could get. They've always been like that, shining, beautiful, even when brimming with tears. I gave Angel a watery smile.

"I'm alive, Ange, don't worry. But tell me, what exactly happened? I feel like crap and I'm kind of woozy…" I said before realizing I had forgotten my automatic sensor to stop Angel from worrying too much. Whoops. At least I didn't curse or anything. Wait… I did, didn't I? Shit.

"We were walking to school and you just fainted. I knew you wouldn't want me to take you to the hospital so I kinda dragged you over here and got you bandages, water and stuff. You got really hot then started screaming and thrashing. Then you woke up." I could tell she was purposely being terse in an attempt not to cry, but her eyes kept starting to tear up.

"Shh, shh, honey. It's fine. I'm fine. It's all gonna be okay. Got it, sweetie?" I murmured, pulling her against my chest, not caring about the immediate pain. She was my baby, and she was worried about me. That's what mattered, "What time is it?" I asked.

"Nearly three." She muttered tersely. Jeez, it was late, school was practically over. We had to get going.

"C'mon, sweetie. Let's get you home." I tell her. Slowly, we made progress home. I leaned heavily on Angel and sat down whenever I got too lightheaded. We didn't need me passing out again, especially because when we don't finish cleaning before Jeb gets home we get beaten. Eventually, we got home. Once, when Jeb was sober enough to come up with plans, he realized he could beat Angel by camping out in her room when work let out early. Nowadays, I bring her up, and, depending on how much we got done that morning, she either cleans her room, the guest room and my room (which I check for Jeb first and are all connected to her room with the "safe" closet) or does her homework then does something quietly.

Given the rooms were already clean from this morning she started drawing. I went to scrub the floors we hadn't done already, wincing as I knelt down. Because Angel had helped this morning, cleaning was done a couple of hours early so I went up to my room and took out my carefully hidden guitar. Jeb smashed everything and anything I had emotional attachments to, so I was extremely cautious about this, but Jeb shouldn't be home till six, and it was five. Half an hour of music before I started cooking dinner would be great. I started strumming and just let myself sing whatever came to my mind.

**"If I Die Young"**

If I die young, bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a, bed of roses  
Sink me in the river, at dawn  
Send me away with the words of a love song

Uh oh, uh oh

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother  
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh well  
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no  
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time

If I die young, bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a bed of roses  
Sink me in the river at dawn  
Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time

And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom  
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,  
I've never known the lovin' of a man  
But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,  
There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,  
Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life, well,  
I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls  
What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar  
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner  
And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'  
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

If I die young, bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a bed of roses  
Sink me in the river at dawn  
Send me away with the words of a love song

Uh oh (uh, oh)  
The ballad of a dove (oh, uh)  
Go with peace and love  
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket  
Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh

The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

I laughed inwardly at the fact this could easily apply to me. I mean, _come on_, in my high school, who do you think has the highest chance of dying young? I was one messed up kid, laughing at the prospect of me dying young, but hey, I had a really messed up life, so I had an excuse. I sung my way through the half an hour, then past that. I looked at the clock. It read 5:43.

"Shit!" I muttered, rushing downstairs. I put all the temperatures higher than what I was supposed to because I had half the time I should to cook. When the food is undercooked or burned, the results are never good. I dashed around the kitchen, steaming, boiling, and seasoning until I had a completed meal before me. I checked my cheap watch, which read 6:02. Quickly, I started sampling each food to make sure it was good after stowing away a Ziploc bag of food for Angel in the spices cupboard. Right as I put a piece of steamed broccoli in my mouth, the devil himself walked in. Little known fact: the devil's name is not, in fact, Satan. It's Jeb.

"Stealing food, are we?" oh crap. Crap, crap, crapity, crap, crap, crap. "You little fucking bitch!" he screamed before punching me in the face. My nose started gushing blood and some of it got on his sleeve, and, for those of you who don't know, bloodstains are _really _hard to get out of clothes. Ha.

"That." _Punch,_ "Was." _ Punch, _"My."_ Punch, _"Favorite."_ Punch, _"Shirt!" _Punch. _Oops. His blows struck my chest and ribs, lodging shards of glass from his beer bottle into my skin. Agony ripped through, but I didn't scream. I never did. I refused to give him the satisfaction of it. After it broke initially, ever other punch left a bleeding ring deeper in some places because of the ragged edges. _Why'd he always have a beer bottle on him? _I wondered. _Because he's a fucking drunkard. _I replied in my head. _Oh… yeah. Oops. _Before you go all "Max has lost her mind on me!" (even though I have) remember that it's completely normal to argue with yourself, it's only weird if you lose.

Then I remembered something completely random: usually all I can think of is "don't scream" or "that hurts" or just plain old "fuck" when Jeb beats me, yet I was arguing internally, even if it was about Jeb's drunkenness. Then I hit me: he wasn't beating me. I cracked an eye open, which I guess I had shut during my "argument". He wasn't there. What the hell? Was he done? Then he reappeared. With a baseball bat. _Shit._

"You stole food and stained my shirt. Time to pay." I didn't bother to point out technically _he _stained his shirt while I just stood there. The impact of the damn bat on my chest resulted in a loud crack and a burst of pain. Next was my stomach, then my hips, then my right shoulder. I started to tune out. It was skill I perfected over the years, I could never completely escape it, but it took the edge off the pain. I was vaguely aware of the fact that I was knocked over and he's changed to the kitchen knife. For what seemed like ages, it dug into my skin while he sat on top of me. The world was blurry, just how I wanted it, and though the knife threatened to cut through my barriers, I never let it. Then, it stopped, and Jeb got off me. I lay there for a while in the puddle of blood before limping up to my bedroom.

Slowly, I opened my desk drawer. I picked out the pocket knife. I lifted it to my wrist and slashed. I did it again. And again. And again. I hated myself for it, but I did it anyway. I shouldn't be so weak that I sought comfort in a knife. A _knife_, for god's sake. I didn't think I was, not anymore, but it was like an addiction, it helped me escape the pain, at least for a little while. As the bliss spread through me, I let myself go. I was still at my desk when the darkness took over, with the steady _drip, drip, drip,_ of my blood as the last sound I heard.


	7. Chapter 6

**I am extremely sorry for being a bitch and not updating sooner, and I don't even have an excuse. I'm just a lazy bitch. A lazy bitch, who, though unsure of the outcome of this (though it most likely will be failure), will try to make an effort to update at least bi-weekly. You are welcome! ... Or possibly not, given I'm probably gonna wimp out on this, but I'll make an effort to update at least every other Wednesday.**

**I WILL NOT put this up for adoption. I didn't realize all that many people actually cared about it, so thank you guys for actually bothering to show it. It means a lot to me. Anyway, to go on with what I've got going on, the voting for my latest story ends this Friday, so get a move on!**

**1, **A normal, eight-year-old girl, with friends, family, and a good life in general, makes one mistake and is in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets captured by erasers. She gets brought to the school and meets the ten-year-old max. Then she gets wings. Of course, because that's what any kid does when they get to that age. A year later, she is still pretty sane, but very different. She is removed to a separate wing of the school and revealed to have a purpose. What will come next?

**V (5)**

**2, **The apocalypse is over, most humans are dead, besides those running Itex and the school, and the flock and fang's gang have died along with most of the mutants from gen 77 and under. The various branches of the school and Itex have turned against each other, using mutants as soldiers, and almost the entire world is a war zone. My name is Leo, and this is my story.

**Votes: IV (4)**

**Come on, people: vote!**

Chapter Six

Max POV

The next morning I dragged myself up out of my desk chair. I peeled off some blood from my cheek that was from the puddle of it on my desk. It took some skin with it, but, me being me, this little pain meant nothing. I was stiff and sore from the night in the chair, and my broken bones didn't help whatsoever. I looked down at myself. Yeah, about school… I was in no shape to be going anywhere. I took off my shirt and used it to wipe off the stains and dried blood, before limping off to the bathroom, leaning on everything I passed. I spent the next fifteen minutes taking my clothes off. This sort of thing became a chore when this happened. Recently, Jeb's been getting worse. Like going from "I hit you for the sake of it! Muah ha ha ha!" to "Die, bitch, die! I'm gonna kill you for the sake of it! Muah ha ha ha!" but, I had to deal. It was for Angel's sake, after all. As I was applying disinfectant, I could help but let unbidden thought invade my mind. _You carry your burden, and your sister's too, but what happens when it gets heavier, and heavier, and heavier? What happens when it becomes too much? What happens when- _I break off the train of thought, not wanting to know the answer. But I already know it. Denial won't change it: I will break. And when I say break, I mean die. But that can't happen, I have to be there for Angel. And that's the problem: I'm taking too many beatings for Angel and the inevitable thing is that I'm going to die, but I can't die, because someone has to take the beatings for Angel, and that someone is me. A solution is to stop taking beatings for Angel, but that's kind of a moot point, given that taking the beatings for her is the thing that has to be done. Goddamnit! Life sucks! _And death is the only way out… _

Okay, so, please, _please _tell me that I'm not the only one with a creepy/morbid/downright pessimistic voice in their head? I'm not, right? _Right?_

Fang POV

Max didn't show up for school yesterday. Or today. I'm starting to get worried, I mean, who misses their second day of school? Well, third too, but whatever. That plus the way she acted when I met her makes me slightly anxious. She kept gasping slightly at random times, and gripped her ribs whenever she moved, seemingly unconsciously. It was as if she was seriously hurt, but trying to hide it for some reason. How and why are my questions. That, and who did it? I was sincerely worried about her, I mean who wouldn't be worried about the new girl? ... It may have something to do with the fact that she was… slightly attractive. Okay, fine, she's drop-dead gorgeous, yet in an understated way. Her simple clothes, her makeup-less face (past a smudge of something that I believe was concealer covering most of her cheek), and honey-brown hair. Most of it was hidden in her sweatshirt, but several strands escaped, floating out around her face. Then there were her eyes, which were a beautiful hazel-green, deep and thoughtful, but their spark of life was absent, her eyes were dull, glassy, and familiar. Familiar as in they were those eyes that masked the pain hidden deep down. I know them because I used to have them too, but I've gotten over my… self-destructive tendencies. There's something wrong here, and I can't quite figure out what. I remember her acting strangely towards me on Monday after school, bursting out at me for no apparent reason, and just her attitude in general. Then there was the fact that, from my impression of her from school, she was the type to just enjoy the peace and quiet, but instead she was studiously doing homework. Everything didn't quite add up, yet built up on each other, as if cluing me in on something, the most important part of the jigsaw of that fascinating girl. What was going on with her? I had to know!

_What if it's nothing and you're just being paranoid? _The logical part of me said, yet, even as I dismissed my ideas, something was tugging at my mind, refusing to let go. Though I was dismissing it temporarily, I knew it was something that would come back later with a vengeance. Still, there was something about her that bugged me, and it wasn't letting up anytime soon. _Damn it, Max! I can't concentrate on anything now!_ I thought as I stared at the math pages that usually came easily to me, in the same position as I had been two hours ago. I've known her for a grand total of, what, seven hours, and now I was worse than an ADHD nine-year-old on crack!


	8. Chapter 7

**I am extremely sorry for being a bitch and not updating sooner, and I don't even have an excuse. Well, I do, and that's I've been at sleep-away camp, but I've home since Sunday. When school starts, I'll update all my stories every other Saturday night/Sunday morning. I have a lot of stories planned, so I can't really update much more than that. Occasionally I'll give random bonus chapters, too, but it may not be very often, 'cuz I get distracted **_**really**_** easily. It's been a bit better this week, although procrastination and I have been great buddies. Anyway, I'll probably be writing roughly a chapter a night for a while, but who knows how long that will last? After this stage of mine is over, it'll be pretty sporadic till school starts.**

Chapter Seven

Max POV

I practically shoved Angel out the door that morning. She was fussing over me, worrying about me, and unwilling to leave me alone in a house with Jeb. I hated the fact it was _her_ worrying about _me_, but it couldn't be helped. I gave her a note with a forged signature saying I had pneumonia and would be out of school for a while, and that my homework could be sent with my younger sister, Angelica Batchelder. I changed my name to my mother's maiden name when I was thirteen. I really don't regret it. In fact, I regret not convincing the agent to change Angel's name too, but he said something about her being too young and to come back with my father and his permission. Given that that was impossible unless Jeb had magically turned into a caring, compassionate father. _And that would happen around the same time I sprouted wings and flew._

/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~

Somewhere in a lab, a scientist, struck with the idea to create a human/avian recombinant life form, sneezed.

}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{~}{

Slowly and painfully, I started cleaning the house. Sure, it hurt like hell, but she did have hours to do it. I had a couple of broken ribs, but then again, when were all my ribs intact at the same time, nowadays? My shoulder hurt like a motherfucker, but wasn't broken, same with my hips and spine. Also, as I was cleaning the bathroom, my shirt had fallen off my relatively uninjured shoulder, and I saw a flash of black in the mirror. I turned so my back was visible in the mirror, but so I could still see it. Knowing the pain I'd be in if I actually moved my other arm, I just awkwardly shrugged my shoulder to expose the word "WORTHLESS" carved, in surprisingly neat handwriting, I might add, into my back. And wait for the kicker: ink had somehow filled the wounds (Hmm… I wonder how _that_ happened?) essentially creating a tattoo. I was literally scarred for life. Great. Just great.

/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/,\'/

Fang POV

Max didn't show up the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that. I mean what the fuck?! She shows up one day, catches my attention, and ditches school for the rest of the week. I couldn't focus on my work. _What happened to her? Where is she? Is she okay? Is she hurt? Was she hurt when I first met her? _The thoughts just kept whizzing around my head, obliterating all semblance of concentration I had. That weekend was wasted pondering about this girl I _just frickin' met!_ _Why am I so obsessed with her?! _

That Monday, I noticed that little girl I saw her pick up, her sister, if I remember correctly, dropping by after school to the highschool, and picking up a binder. Let's just check this out, hmmm?

I walked over to her, "You wouldn't happen to know Max Ride, would you?" I asked with a charming smile. In response, she froze. Frowning a little, I continued, "I'm just a bit worried about her. I'm in most of her classes, and I noticed she hasn't been to class recently." Sure, I was stretching the truth a bit, with the phrases "a bit" (both in the conversation and in this thought), "most" (as in "all"), and "noticed" (Ahem! I've been losing sleep over this! "Noticed" is the understatement of a century!), but it was close enough to the truth that it didn't really matter. All that mattered, as of now, was getting these friggin' answers so I can think clearly again!

"Umm… well… Oh yeah! Max managed to get pneumonia and will be off of school for maybe another week or so. I'll tell her you asked… what's your name?" she asked. I was surprised by her maturity, but couldn't really think about much more that her hesitation at the beginning.

"It's Fang," I said without thinking, "But… don't tell her I asked. I get the feeling she's not the type of girl to appreciate it." I smirk slightly.

"I couldn't agree with you more. She doesn't let me even make her breakfast, or even tea, let alone actually worry about her. I do anyways, but it's kind of against the Laws of Max…" at that she chuckled sheepishly. I had to admit she was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. With a naturally blushing round face, bright blue eyes, and bouncing blond curls, she made me want to pick her up and snuggle into the extreme cuteness. It was one if those "_She's not _adorable,_ she's _uh-douh-wi-bool!" moments.

"Hmm, well, I hope she gets better. Thanks for telling me… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" I said, it coming out as more of a question than a statement.

"Angelica, but you can call me Angel. Everyone else does, that's for sure." She said with a sweet smile spread across her face. Well, her name definitely fit. She was probably the most angelic girl he'd ever meet.

"Well, I'll see ya 'round later! Kay?" I called as she skipped off.

"Okay!" she called back sweetly. That's when I realized: we were in Arizona and it was barely fall. How could she possibly get pneumonia?!

Yup, welcome back ADHD nine-year-old on crack. I'd missed you during those five minutes you were gone.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

And that's a wrap! Sorry about the delay, but whatever. It's out now. My eyes are hurting cuz I'm still not used to staying up _too_ too late thanks to the tech ban at my sleep-away camp, so I think I'm gonna sleep now.


	9. Chapter 8

**I am extremely sorry for, once again, being a bitch and not updating sooner, and, once again, I don't even have an excuse. I just started updating all my other stories, and even started updating them **_**again**_** before I started this one. Hopefully, this will be long, but I keep ending up at places where I almost have to stop. If it isn't at least a thousand two-hundred words I'll give another one before the day's over. **

**Yes, this chapter sucks. So sue me.**

**Here's the next chapter of "Save Me Before It's Too Late"**

Chapter Eight

Max POV

It was Saturday and I still wasn't completely healed, but since I somehow managed to avoid most beating this week, I was decent enough to start actually walking out of the place. I had hidden in the morning/afternoon when Jeb woke up each day. The work was quite a bit more painful than usual, but at least I managed to get half-decent meals. Of course, I saved most of the food I got for Angel. Carefully, I wrapped my shoulder's "tattoo," which was well on its way to healing, in a length of bandages. I then added some as support to my broken bones and sprained joints, along with thin metal tubes to create splints. Jeb actually broke my left forearm and my shin. I actually could become a nurse when I grow up: I knew _way_ too much first aid for someone my age. I could even set bones and make nearly undetectable splints. I could pop dislocated joints into place, add stitches to where they're needed, and create make-shift braces for sprains and the like. I could even recognize almost _exactly_ what happened from a scar. I sometimes scare myself.

I added the cover-up to my face and wrists before doing the same for Angel. I slipped on my black clothes with her help and we left. The reason I actually wore all black is because even if I started bleeding, it wouldn't show. In the end I ended up liking the color anyway, so it worked out. Angel was never even half as bad, but I still asked her to wear dark clothes if there was much of a chance of a wound opening up. I remember the time a bully punched me in the back and I started coughing up blood… and it started flowing from my back too. That wasn't a good day… and I nearly ended up in a hospital. If I had, then… well, I'm really, _really_ glad it didn't.

I took a twenty out of Jeb's wallet this morning. It was risky, but he'd never notice. There was roughly an hour a day when he wasn't too drunk or hungover to actually count that high, and I don't think he'd do it anyway. After I did that I saw something I never thought I'd see: a note from Jeb saying the house was clean enough so I could go out anywhere, so long as he had breakfast ready for him the next morning. I in turn left one saying the waffles were in the toaster so he could reheat them, before setting everything up. I had to take Angel to her friend's house because, unlike me, she had no problem being social and gave me the dreaded Bambi to let her go over.

Of course, I gave in, so here I was walking her over to Gazzy's (what a weird name!) house. Apparently he was a year older than her so they had lunch and recess together, and he had an older sister named Nudge (okay, I'm starting to wonder about their parents' sanity) who liked her as well. She was surprisingly mature for her age, so it was much of a shock. She did have her childhood stolen from her, as much as I tried to prevent that. I'd already lost mine, but she should have at least had hers. I managed to hang onto shreds of it for her, but no child should have to live in constant fear of their own father. Especially not Angel.

Every step was the usual agony. Recently, it was rare to walk and not be in pain. Slowly, we walked her over to the house which wasn't all that far away. I actually knew where they lived because it was on the street to the park and I make a point to always know where the park is. Parks are actually a great place to spend the night. I had on an extra jacket today, as I knew the night could get pretty cold, but it'd be fine. I had a sleeping bag and some rope in the side yard for emergencies. Sleeping in a tree does have its upsides. The path was relatively short, but it still took a long time, but then again, I did have three broken bones. I rang the doorbell as Angel bounced adorably up and down in excitement, her little overnight bag bouncing on her hip. I was about to press again when the door opened revealing… Fang. Goddamnit.

Fang POV

The doorbell rang._ Hmm… that's funny. We almost never have anyone over on Saturdays._ I wondered who could be here before remembering Gazzy saying he had a friend a grade younger than him and that Nudge liked her too. I walked to the door and opened it too see… Max. Holy crap.

What was Max doing here? Why's she here if she was too sick for school. I look at her face and notice the concealer around her eyes and her gaunt face. She did look sick, but if I remembered correctly she always looked like this.

"Hey, are Gazzy and Nudge here? My sister has a sleepover with them organized." She said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Umm… yeah. Here, come in." I invited. I immediately wondered why I had said that. I reasoned that it was because it was rude not to, before I realized I was deluding myself. I just wanted her there. I was obsessed with her, I couldn't stop think about her, and I was worried about her.

"Nah, I got stuff to do. Be nice to my sister." The last bit was kind of scary. It was a statement that had morphed into a threat. Then, with a complete turn-around, she said sweetly to her sister, "Be a good girl Angel! I'll come pick you up tomorrow at eleven." As she hugged her good-bye.

"Hey, wait" I started, "Why can't your mom come or something. I mean-" I was cut off by the door slamming in my face. Damn, that girl's annoying. _And cool. And beautiful. And-_ _hey where'd that come from?! _I started muttering to myself and almost missed Angel's whisper.

"That's because she's dead." Wait, what?!

Max POV

Sighing, I limped out to the local pharmacy. It'd take me a while, but I was running low on medical supplies back home. As I was walking I thought about Fang. Why'd he have to bring that up? I mean, of everything he could've reminded me of, it was my mother. She was kind, sweet, loving, caring, amazing, and everything you could ask for in a mother. And now she's gone and my dad who used to be nice, if distant, is now a maniac who beats his kids. I feel like it's my fault. If I had stopped this when it started, Angel could live in blissful ignorance, we'd both be a normal weight, he'd take care of us, and Dylan… Dylan wouldn't have died. He'd found out my secret, and Jeb found out. He disappeared without a trace, but I know what happened. That was when I stopped calling Jeb my father. We moved a month afterwards, and ended up here of all places. With Fang. And I knew what was happening, I'm not _that _ignorant. He was trying to get close to me and figure me out. That wasn't going to happen though. I wasn't going to let someone else die. But there was something else that made it worse: Jeb had promised that the next time something like that happened Angel would die. I could never do that to her. I'd rather sell my soul to the devil. Also known as Jeb.


End file.
